


No Signal

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Car Trouble, Cold Weather, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hallucinations, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Naked Cuddling, Naked Derek Hale, Protective Derek, Romantic Fluff, Scared Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Winter, jeep breaks down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Stiles' jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere. His cell has no service and it's a full moon. While looking for help, Stiles thinks there may be a werewolf after him. The night gets colder and Stiles grows increasingly more tired.





	No Signal

**Author's Note:**

> A short ficlet I wrote in very little time. I needed to revisit the boys again while I work on longer updates. Enjoy!

 

Almost home, Stiles thinks. He rubs the fatigue from his eyes with the knuckles of his right hand.    
His mind wanders as he struggles to concentrate on the dark road. The headlights are not offering much illumination, thankfully there’s a full moon to offer more light. The physical duress he was under in the past days weighs on him like a lead vest.  
Full moon. His werewolf. Derek.  
Stiles misses him.  
  
The brunette sighs. A warm fireplace and his sourwolf’s comforting arms is all he wants after this long weekend.  
He flips on the radio, searching for something to take his mind off of the remaining drive. The weather is not exactly helping and the fact he detoured onto a back road has bought him an extra half hour at least.  
The only station he picks up is oldies. “Lonesome Town” comes on.  
“How fitting,” he muses. The music is depressing but at least it’s blocking out the silence. Silence is never good for Stiles. Silence brings bad thoughts.  
He hums along. Ricky Nelson knew his shit.  
  
Not even a mile later, the jeep stalls.  
“What?!” he exclaims, pulling to the side of the icy road. He checks his watch. It’s 11 pm and Stiles is 30 miles outside Beacon. Thirty fucking miles.  
“Shit!”  A fist slams down on the steering wheel.  
Something blinks obnoxiously on the dash. Stiles doesn’t even pretend to know anything about cars but it would seem protocol dictates he exit the vehicle and have a look. You know, like “men” do.  
  
The door slams shut, and he pulls his coat tight around him. It’s freezing. With trembling hands he pops open the hood.  
“What do I even do?! What am I even fucking looking at?!” Remembering some things his father used to check, he fiddles with this and that.  
Hurrying back inside the jeep, Stiles tries the ignition again. To no avail.  
“Awesome. Just what I need.” The brunette pulls his phone from his pocket.  
NO SIGNAL.  
“Where the hell am I?!”  
Not even the radio works now. It’s just static.

Not far off he sees lights. Could be a home. There is a post box and a trail heading into the woods.  
“Not creepy at all,” he thinks. “Jesus Christ I’m gonna get shot.”  
He walks at a dilatory pace while the piercing cold penetrates his very soul. The shrill winter wind howls so loudly it’s like an echo through his mind. If only he had packed a hat and some gloves.  
  
The lights are no closer and he’s been walking for what seems like 10 minutes. If he was tired before, he’s absolutely exhausted now.  
A bitter sub-zero temperature inflames his coffee eyes, sending a flow of tears down his ruddy cheeks. Tears that soon freeze.  
The light of day has long since dispersed, and the dense forest around him is pitch. As the winter moon slowly ascends in the horizon, he quickens his pace. Stiles tries to make out the trail, but it’s been snowed over for a while. Have these people barricaded themselves in their home?  
  
Out of the silence of the night he hears an alarming sound. It’s not one that would come from any human, though it is a noise all too familiar to his ear. A wolf’s howl. But this isn’t _his_ wolf’s howl.  
Shit, is there a werewolf out tonight?  
  
Of all the times his crappy jeep has to break down, it’s on a full moon in the middle of nowhere.  
“You’re tired, and it’s cold,” Stiles tells himself. Dismissing it as a fabrication of his own imagination, but growing timorous, he speeds up his pace even more. To his astonishment, he perceives it again, this time much closer.  
  
Coming to a standstill, he pivots in time to observe a grey shadow disappearing into the surrounding forest.  
_Oh fuck._  
Panic seizes him, frozen in place by newly found terror. His heart thumps in his chest so strongly it reverberates throughout his whole body. Couldn’t kill to try his phone again.  
Still no signal.  
_Derek… shit…. Where are you when I need you?_  
Stiles hears the howl again, and a rustling nearby off the trail. He imagines he is only a few paces from the deadly grasp of his predator.  
The crisp air engulfs him as he feels his lungs strain. He dares move, breath shallow as he pushes himself farther into the unknown night.  
If he can only reach the house…  
  
The path seems endless as he flees madly from an unknown enemy. The muscles in his arms and legs are rigid with cold. Sweat trickles down the groove of his back, his mind whirling at the thought of his possible demise.  
_If I die now… how can I say goodbye to Derek? Oh my god._  
  
Stiles concludes he’s lost. Somehow he must have missed a turn for the house?! Where are the lights?!  
There is no place to rest that might offer concealment. Leaving the trail would mean certain death since he doesn’t know what (or who) is out there.  
The howling doesn’t cease, only grows louder and now seems to follow his pace. It’s accompanied by terrifying growls.  
  
Does he hear more than one wolf? Is it a pack after him?  
“I’m going to die,” he thinks. He can’t feel his hands or feet. Fresh snow prostrates beneath his shoes as the chill burns on his body where he’s divest of clothing. Blowing on his hands does nothing since he can barely draw breath.  
Debility sets in. A whisper floats to him over the crisp air.  
“Stiles… Stiles… hold on… “   
_Derek?_

Terrible sounds can be heard. Like dogs fighting. The boy doesn’t know if it’s real or if, at this point, he’s imagining everything. All he is certain of is that his legs can no longer carry him.  
Stiles slows down, barely enough energy left. He collapses on the path, breathing labored.  
  
Pressing his face into the chilling snow, he waits for his attacker to stumble upon him. Minutes pass like hours, but nothing happens.  
Stiles drags himself to a nearby tree, the sleepiness overcoming him. It’s so cold… so cold. He knows better than to let the drowsiness in but he might not have the strength to make it back to the car. If he could find the car at this point.  
He feels so at peace. The terrifying sounds have stopped.  
  
Chest heaving as he tries to control his short, wispy breaths, he recalls the shadow and the whisper. What was that?  
Time passes.   
Stiles falls asleep. Were he alone, it would mean never waking up. Except a dark wolf comes along shortly after, fangs bloodied and grey hairs stuck to his chin.  
The wolf shifts into human form, carrying him away to warmth and safety in his strong embrace.  
  
Stiles opens his eyes to a familiar face several hours later.  
“Derek?!” he mumbles, wrapped in fleece beside his mate. They lay naked in a cocoon in front of their fireplace.   
“How did I…? How did you? I thought… ”  
  
Derek kisses him to shut him up. His soft beard gently grazes Stiles’ neck as he nuzzles him.  
“I’ll always protect you, Stiles. I’ll always find you. No matter where you are, you’re my mate. I’ll never leave you alone.”   
"But there was..." he mutters.   
"I took care of him. I told you... I will always protect you, baby. I love you."   
  
Stiles has so many questions, but he's too weak to discuss anything at length.  
It doesn't matter. All that does is that he is safe cuddled into his mate. A mate who saved his life tonight and would do so a thousand times over.   
  
"I love you, Der. I was so desperate I'd never see you again."   
Derek grins, his plush lips an offering to the brunette. "Afraid you'll have to see this sourwolf's face for a few more years, pumpkin. Make your peace with that."   
"Just a few? I was hoping for an eternity."   
The wolf chuckles. "Perhaps that can be arranged." 

**Author's Note:**

> Who WAS the grey wolf?  
> They are and will always be my first OTP. Sterek forever.


End file.
